Lucine 1

Rachel Lucine
Ms. Gardner
English 10H/4*
20 January 2017
Just Breathe
I just dont understand why they would do that, I cried into my mothers shoulder as
my sobs made my body heave. My arms wrapped around her tightly as we stood in her room.
Not very shocking as this is where we usually were when I cried in her arms. My breaths kept
getting shorter and shorter as I felt my chest beginning to tighten as if an elephant was stepping
on me.
Deep breath in, deep breath out. Come on take ten deep breaths with me. My mother
calmly stated to me as she looked me in the eye. Inhale...exhale one, inhale...exhale two,
inhale...exhale three.
The more breaths I took the more I felt the weight being lifted from my chest and I was
finally able to feel the air rushing back to my lungs. I just kept repeating to myself in my head
deep breath in, deep breath out. Those girls could say all the mean things to me, but I would not
let them see me cry, I would not let them see how they could take my breath away with just one
mean word. Sure everyone knew how easy it was for me to cry. They had all seen me weep in
fourth grade after watching Bambi and they saw me bawling during silent reading at the ending
of Where the Red Fern Grows. However, I wouldnt let them see me cry over something they
caused.
Its funny how when people say mean things you never forget them. Its so hard to
remember all the good times, all the memories that you have playing with your friends, all the
things you dont want to forget. Yet all the things you want to forget are the things that haunt
you. All the stupid mistakes you have made, all the things you could have changed, all the awful
things people have done. I would like to believe that the reason why we remember all the bad
things are because there are just more happy things, too many happy things to remember.
Perhaps that is just a naive, childish thought.
Another one of my naive, childish thoughts was that if I could somehow match my
breathing to my mothers all would be good in the world. During this time I would wake up and
go into my parents room and snuggle with my mom. She worked until four in the morning so she
would continue to sleep as I wiggled myself up close to her. The sun would be streaming in
through the window and the rest of the world would be up and running, except for us. As I lay
there wide awake as she was passed out, I would try to match my breathing to hers. She would
take such slow breaths and then take one occasional deep one and I would try to match it with
hers, but it just wasnt enough air. I would have to take two deep breaths every time she took
one. It used to frustrate me that I couldnt get it right, eventually I would get bored though and I
would wander off to do something else. Now that I look back at that, that is what I consider love.
At that moment in my life I loved my mom so much and I just wanted to match my breathing to
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hers. I hope that one day someone will love me that much that all they want to do is match their
breathing to mine. For now though, I still need to figure out how to just breathe.
I think my infatuation with breathing started with my mother, because as I grew older I
started paying closer attention to my own breathing patterns. I used to lay in bed at night staring
up at the ceiling and just focus on my breathing. I would lay there thinking about each breath in
and out. It would get to the point that I felt if I stopped focusing on my breathing I would stop
breathing all together. My breaths would start to feel odd and irregular. I would start to feel like I
wasnt taking every possible breath I could. I would lay there trying to take deeper breaths and
shorter breaths and make a pattern of it. Short breath, short breath, long breath, short breath,
short breath, long breath. Every combination I made didnt fit. I felt like I would never naturally
breathe again. Dr. Jonathan P. Parsons, a professor of internal medicine at The Ohio State
University, said "In healthy people without chronic lung disease, even at maximum exercise
intensity, we only use 70 percent of the possible lung capacity. I guess this makes sense because
even now it feels like I should be taking deeper breaths.
Perhaps I just overthink things, or maybe Im a perfectionist even in my breathing habits.
Maybe Im just thinking into the meaning of this too much. Maybe Ill never know why
breathing is hard sometimes. All I know is deep breath in, deep breath out.
The few times I did feel like my lungs were completely full was when I cried. My parents
would say something mean, or my sister would. And I would run into my room crying and I
would fling myself onto my bed and sob into my pillow. I would then listen carefully, waiting
for the sounds of my parents footsteps. I wanted them to come in there and comfort me and
apologize. Even if I was in the wrong or if it was over something stupid. It didnt matter, I just
wanted them to come in there and show me that they loved me. And the longer they took the
harder I cried. As I lay there crying my lungs would fill with air as I gasped and shaked and
shuddered. I loved the feeling of just sobbing even if by the middle of it I didnt even know why
I was crying anymore. My parents would then come in and comfort me and they would tell me
deep breath in, deep breath out. I would slowly stop weeping and then after I had shed all the
possible tears I could and my breaths were back to their normal slow pace. I would finally rejoin
my family like nothing had happened feeling ten pounds lighter than before.
I used to be proud of my ability to cry so easily. At least for something silly like Bambi
or a book. I thought I was unique because I had such a soft heart and I wasnt afraid of sharing
my emotions. I still am happy that I can share my emotions. I dont know what I would do if I
was afraid to tell people what was wrong. As Ive gotten older I find that I cry easier over things,
even though thats the opposite of what I want. When I was a child I had some control of when I
cried and if I didnt want to cry. When I broke my left wrist as a child I was at Girl Scout camp
and I didnt shed one tear all day, because I was afraid of the nurse, until I got into my moms
car, then I burst into tears. I recently broke my wrist again in front of my whole family and I tried
so hard not to let them see my pain. I didn't want to show them that I was weak. I just couldnt
hold it in. When I feel like Im about to cry I take deep breaths trying to stop it. I close my eyes
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and I yell at myself to stop, dont cry in front of everyone. Sometimes it works, sometimes it
doesnt.
Once in ninth grade I was in math class and I made a stupid mistake on a quiz. The
teacher, Ms. Pipkin, was joking around and she laughed at it and said what is this. Another boy
in my class made the same mistake and she joked and asked, what are you two dating? Did you
guys study together? Its not like the boy was awful or anything or what the teacher said was
that awful. I was just embarrassed, and I probably hadnt cried in a while. I have found that if I
dont cry once a month I get built up and one day I just explode. I then started to cry in front of
the whole class, in front of the teacher, in front of the boy. At first it was just silent tears and I
just tried to look away and hide in my friend's shoulder.
Dont look at me, I whispered to her. My breathing started to become uneven as I
started to cry more. Soon my breaths became ragged and I couldnt control them. Then came the
sniffling the big sign that people could tell I was crying. Soon everyone in the class was looking
at me as I tried so hard to just breathe. Deep breath in, deep breath out, I tried to tell myself. If
I could just get my breathing under control everything else would follow. Soon everyone was
trying to comfort me and I just wanted them to stop looking at me. If they just looked away and
didnt say anything then I would be able to stop. But the floodgates had opened and usually once
I start crying after I havent cried in a while, I cant stop. My breathing just got more and more
ragged. I had forgot about the deep breaths and was desperately trying to reign myself into
control. But as Jordin Sparks said Tell me how Im supposed to breathe with no air, she
seemed to capture exactly how I felt then. I finally got a hold of my breathing and calmed down.
I began to apologize to everyone and told them that I cry over everything and that it wasnt a big
deal. I was just so embarrassed. I later found out that the boy thought I was crying because I was
disgusted by the thought of being with him. I hope he knows now I wasnt.
When I was younger I always felt like I wasnt breathing right, now when I cry I feel like
I cant breathe, so when I see people smoking cigarettes in public I get upset. While some people
want to risk getting lung cancer others dont. When people smoke in front of others I find it just
disrespectful. They are taking other peoples choices away. You can choose to risk your life, but
others may not want to. Those people choose to take this last breath earlier than others, but
others dont. I dont want to. My dad has a college friend, that I sometimes see. He used to
smoke cigarettes, but now he just vapes. One time he was in the car with myself and my family
and he was vaping in the car. It is his choice to vape, but when he smokes right in front of people
he takes their choice away and that is rude and not fair. He has a young daughter, what about her
future? I dont feel like Im getting enough air now as it is. I cant even imagine breathing less
than I do now.
I still havent figured out the cure for breathing. I still match my breathing to others, even
my dogs sometimes, I still focus on my breathing too much and let it get the best of me, and even
now the only thing that can stop me from crying is to breath in and breath out. I would like to
think that as I have grown I have gained more control over my breathing, but that isnt true. I
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have no clue how to calm down and take deep breaths on my own. I still need people to comfort
me and tell me deep breath in, deep breath out. I have no control when it comes to breathing.
Whether it be laying in my bed at night thinking too much into it, or crying in front of others no
matter how many deep breaths I try to take, or having other people make the choice of smoking
in front of me. Maybe Ill never gain control over my breathing and it will always be this
uncontrollable pattern of shallow and deep breaths. For now all I need to do is learn how to just
breathe.